


Child of Spring

by Sonic_Rider



Series: Fly Away Home [1]
Category: Moominvalley (Cartoon 2019), Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson
Genre: Autistic Moomin, Autistic Snusmumriken | Snufkin, Blood, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prequel, Recovery, Stimming, but like not a lot., everyones autistic because i'm autistic and i say so!, its a really really fluffy fic tho., moominmamma is a good mother, moominpapa and snufkin bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-23 03:12:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19142395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sonic_Rider/pseuds/Sonic_Rider
Summary: Sometime in the middle of spring, a rumor floats through Moominvalley. A rumor that a child, no younger than eight was discovered wandering the valley on their own.....In which, Snufkin discovers Moomin Valley a lot younger than he's meant to.





	Child of Spring

**Author's Note:**

> This is a prequel to my other fic "And by the Groke, Snufkin! You're worthy of love!" Of course, you can read this without having read the other fic but also I highly reccommend you read it because I straight up sold my soul to write it. w09fesoidj
> 
> ALSO.
> 
> I have a headcanon that Moominvalley Moomin and Snufkin didn't meet because of the comet. Mostly because from what we've seen in the show, Snufkin would've straight up murdered Sniff. So this is the story of how I think they met. :D

Part One

A Bit of Kindness

 

* * *

Sometime in the middle of spring, a rumor floats through Moominvalley. A rumor that a child, no younger than eight was discovered wandering the valley on their own.

A child who did not already reside in the valley.

So, Naturally Moominmamma elects to ignore the rumor. Nothing ever happens in Moominvalley, she reasoned to herself. It was probably just folks bored of their everyday lives wanting for a little adventure, plus she knew for a fact that her son, who had just turned nine had taken to wearing her old dresses and gowns, and it was likely just him being mistaken as a little girl. 

After all, there's no way a  _ child  _ as young as that could survive on their own out there, and the things she had heard them do was downright ridiculous! A child that young couldn’t cook over an open flame, they wouldn’t even know how to light it!

However, the more she hears about this child, the more her worry grows. As with each passing day the residents of the valley know more and more of this mysterious child, and at this point Moominmamma really can no longer justify passing it off as a bored rumor. 

One day, she tunes into a gossip circle to try to learn more.

 

“Well, the little darling helped me carry my groceries back home!” Said a friendly Hemulen.  
  


Another scoffs and snears. “That little Rat,  _ helped _ you? I found Him rifling through my vegetable patch just yesterday!”  
  


“Well,” a child started. “I saw her playing a Mouth Organ in the forests!”  
  


“But when we clapped, he gasped and ran away!” Finished the other  
  


Ms. FillyJonk speaks over all of them. “Enough with all of these he’s and she’s! What gender is it anyway?”

 

And for that, Moominmamma snaps. “Whether or not this child exists, I will not allow you for devalue them so much as to call them an It!”

Ms. FillyJonk flushes an exceptionally bright shade of pink, but she doesn't argue her point any longer and the group then dissolves to continue on their day. Leaving Moominmamma only with an extreme anxiety settling in her chest. 

_ “The child is real.” _ She thinks to herself, horrified.  _ “The child is real and I haven’t done anything to help them?”  _ With this revelation, she decides to commit everything she has to meeting them...and to helping them. 

* * *

She doesn’t have to wait long, however.. As she meets the child that very night.

* * *

A knock rings upon her door sometime around ten. Moomin and Moominpapa has long since gone to bed, but Moominmamma found herself a lot more restless than she usually was, so when that knock rang upon her door, she answered it almost immediately. 

She couldn’t believe what she saw. 

A child, perhaps even  _ younger _ than eight stood before her wearing a hat so large and green, she couldn’t see any of their face. Which perhaps, was their intent. She gasps and takes a step back in shock. 

The child took a step back as well. 

From this new distance between them, she could make out the child’s long and stringy brown hair and the tattered shirt they wore as a dress. However, that seemed to be not what the child wanted Moominmamma to pay attention to. Before she can even speak a single word, the child holds up their bloodied thumb in one hand, and a badly ripped blanket in the other. 

She instantly knows what to do. 

She invites the child inside but they pull back and look behind them. Almost if they wanted to run away. She instead offers to have them wait outside while she fixes it on the porch next to them. They’re a little more receptive to this idea and she spends roughly an hour with them on the porch, asking them little ‘yes and no’s’ they answer with knocks on the floor of the porch. 

 

“Do you really live alone out there?”

One knock 

 

“Oh…. do you know how to take care of yourself at least?”

One knock

 

“Isn’t it scary?”

Two knocks.  

 

“Have you been alone for a very long time…?”

A pause… And a single knock.  

 

They speak like this for a very long time. Moominmama aching to extend the conversation longer than it needs to be… but both blanket and child have been patched up and they’re obviously aching to leave. 

So instead of capturing the child, she smiles sweetly and says “You’re welcome here anytime...alright?”

The child knocks once on the porch railing as they leave. 

She sees the child a few more times that spring, usually deep into the night holding something that either broke or that they want to trade. They never stay long enough for her to get their name, and for a long time she thinks that that may be intentional.

However, one day, early into Summer, her son Moomin comes to her excitedly shouting about a new ‘friend’ he had made! And the excitement of her near-friendless son finally having somebody to play with eases her worries, if not for just a while. 

However, she could have never expected that her son’s new friend was the very child she spent so many nights trying to help.  
  


* * *

Part Two

A Sort of Pied Piper

* * *

Little Moomin had a wonderful life. He had a loving Mama and Papa who would be willing to trade the world for just one of his smiles. He had a massive valley he was allowed to explore all he wanted, granted that he was back in time for dinner and stayed away from the ocean shore. And finally, he had a wonderful, if not a bit whiny baby brother in Sniff!

 

However, he couldn’t help but feel a little lonely. 

 

Alright….Maybe a lot lonely, but there was nothing he could do about it!

 

Sure, he spoke a little louder than necessary, and sure he had one hell of a temper to deal with but wasn't  every eight year old supposed to be loud and cranky? Was it wrong to express how he felt?

Was he the one that was weird for flapping his arms when overjoyed or for not being able to sit still when somebody wants him too? 

Was it his fault his only friend was his adoptive brother?

He didn’t know...But.. What he  _ did  _ know is that there was a new child, just like him hiding somewhere out in the valley  _ and he would find them…. _

He spends weeks and months trying to catch up to the mysterious child he’s heard so much about and has desperately been wanting to meet, but his efforts prove largely fruitless until one early summer day....

He wakes earlier than usual to the sound of music wafting through the air. It was clumsy and amateurish… but at that moment, its the prettiest thing he’s ever heard. He sneaks out of his room, taking his ladder instead of the front door so he’d be able to reach the source a lot faster than if he had risked sneaking by his mother humming about in the kitchen and follows the tune deep into the forest. 

As he does, a story his mother used to tell him comes to mind. About a magic man with a magic flute who lured away unruly children with his magic tune. 

Moomin starts to sweat a little at that.  _ “Will I become just like one of those kids?”  _ he asks himself as he stumbles over a log, but he doesn't have long to think about the answer as as soon as he regains his balance, he's found his way into a camp. 

A camp where a now frozen definitely-not-a-moomin child stared at him in horror, slowly backing away from him. 

Moomin’s eyes widened. “W-Wait!” he calls out and the child bolts, but Moomin somehow bolts faster and he manages to grab the child by the wrist. 

The child turns, snarling before sinking his teeth into Moomin’s arm. Moomin howls in pain, and tears spring to his eyes as their mouth drips with his blood. But he doesn't let go. Instead, he shouts with all of his might. 

“Bite me all you want! That’s not going to stop me from becoming your friend!”

This sentence apparently shocks the child enough that he lets go of Moomin’s wrist and Moomin in turn shakes the hand he's currently holding, and with the biggest smile he can muster he announces. “Hi! My name is Moomintroll, and i’m gonna be your best friend!”

Moomin’s grip slackens and the child whips their hand back to their chest, completely bewildered at what just happened and Moomin goes to check on his own bleeding wound. It's not too deep. Hopefully, Mamma won’t even notice. 

He glances back up at the child, who he had just realized was not wearing the familiar green hat he’d so often been told they’d be wearing. 

Moomin’s eyes widened. Was this the first time anybody’s actually seen their how they-- 

 

They….

 

Oh my…

 

they had pretty brown hair worn in several not so pretty knots and tangles around their head. Their skin and clothes were covered in dirt and mud and his blood still dripped from the child's chin.

 

it was.. A rather disturbing sight, really...

 

Before moomin can say anything however, the kid drops to the ground and they write out in the dirt. 

"Friend...?"

Moomin feels his heart break in two

“Do you...not know what a friend is?” he asks the child and he really should learn a name  to call them..

The child shook their head. 

Moomin frowned, but then says with fire in his eyes, and his hands balled up next to his chest “Well… I’ll show you!

Of course, the kid has no reason to trust Moomin at all, but despite all odds… they nod and then immediately go to stop the bleeding they’d caused to his arm. 

After all, he’d kinda forgotten about it in all of the excitement..

 

* * *

Part Three

Hello, My Name Is...

* * *

In all the years he’d been alive (which wasn’t much mind you,) He never knew a family he could call his own. He never knew a person he could call ‘a friend’ and even worse, he never even knew a name to call himself. 

If he even was a  _ he _ , that is. 

He’d always been called a He so that's what he assumed he was. But ‘he’ was still nothing to be called. He wasn’t a name. It was only a pronoun, a pair of letters that detailed how he’d be treated in this world. 

 

Moomintroll was a name. 

 

Moomin was also a name. 

 

He frowned as he ripped fabric from his own dress, wrapping it cleanly around his new ‘friend’s’ hand. How come Moomintroll got to have two names and he couldn’t even have one? 

He wraps it tighter and wonders if Moomin would be willing to grant him his spare, but quickly shakes the thought from his mind.

It's not his place to take Moomin’s name, but oh how he wished he could be called something other than the number pinned to his back and the gender he was assigned.

He’s asked about a name before, hes desperately wanted a name all of his life, but every time he’s asked the matron of that  _ horrible  _ orphanage simply snapped. “You can have a name when you deserve one  _ you darned-- _

He shook his head violently at the thought of the matron and her horrible oaths but wishes he’d stayed in his own mind when Moomintroll asked him the one question he’d been dreading. 

“But anyways, what's your name?”

He looks away, ears red as he does and Moomin asks something that hurts him even more.

 

 

* * *

_ “Do..you even have a name to be called?” _

* * *

 

 

The days and weeks pass and He finds himself liking this Moomin quite a bit. Sure. Moomin is loud and just a little bit obnoxious… But he's also kind and sweet as can be. 

Because of this he finds himself.. Wanting to stay in the valley for just a little longer each night. 

Every morning He says he’ll leave by moon rise, but then Moomin asks to take his hand and leads him to another breathtaking view or feeds him something so sweet and warm he just about melts into a puddle of what he can only call happiness. Then, night falls and He thinks to himself how silly he had been to not leave that day. 

He doesn’t know what to do. 

So instead, He sits under the starry sky and learns to handle his harmonica just a little bit better as he mulls over where his short life had taken him. 

Before He stumbled into the valley kindness was a complete stranger to him. The orphanage he had escaped from was loud and cruel with the Fillyjonk who ran it being even crueler. She took every opportunity to berate him or hurt him and make him fear for his life. 

However, at times… the children of the orphanage were sometimes even crueler than the mistress who managed them. 

The rare times he’d be allowed outside, he’d find injured creatures scattered all across the lot he’d desperately tried to help, but would usually have his kindness rewarded with the death of the poor thing and he’d be mercilessly mocked and called such horrible names like ‘pansy’ and ‘princess’ and-

 

_ “Snufkin.”  _ he speaks one summer's eve, surprising Moomin so much that he almost falls right into the water below them

 

Moomin then whips around grabbing his hands in delight and saying in a sort of cheer that “You spoke! You spoke! You’re voice is so wonderful and you spoke!!” as he twirls them around in happy celebration. 

Hes thrown for a loop and he almost loses his newly gained voice from the sheer shock being of handled in such a way. Moomin apologizes and lets him go the moment he notices this, however. So He really doesn't hold any harsh feelings for the little Troll.  

“I’m sorry for scaring you like that.” His friend,  _ Moomin _ , says and He smiles back in a sort of forgiveness. “Its just that...You spoke!” Moomin pauses. “Was...Was that your name? Snuf..kin?”

He-  _ Snufkin  _ nods. 

“It is now.”

 

* * *

Part Four

Blood and Water

* * *

 

 

Moominpapa has experienced a lot in his life. He’s been on many grand adventures and read hundreds of thousands of novels in the spaces between. He’s fought dragons and knights and befriended them too. He’s fallen in love, both with the open sea and the life and wife that had greeted him on the other side. 

But still, even now settled down with a wife and child, the urge for adventure still calls him and he so desperately wishes to earn the trust of the small forest child his son had called his friend, if only to hear the wonderful stories that he might have.

Most days, he avoided the house like the plague. However, if the sun shone too bright or the rain fell too hard the child often found themself under their roof and in their care. He was awfully shy and near-painfully polite in a way that reminds him of himself when he was young and freshly escaped from the hell his caretaker called an orphanage. 

He suspects the same fate of the child and his stomach flips in his stomach every time the child shrinks away from a noise that's too loud or any touch that lasts too long and he resolves to himself to gain his trust and have him open up to why he might be the way he is…

One day in the early fall, the child,  _ Snufkin, _ finds his way up into Moominpapa’s study, completely in awe with all of the books and maps that surrounded him. Moominpapa doesn’t try to stop him in the slightest when he finds him curled around one of his memoirs, gasping and cheering at every twist and turn. Instead he sits down beside him and waits for the boy to notice him before he speaks. 

As the boy realizes he's there, he throws himself back with a small shout and a rushed apology. But Moominpapa simply smiles. He picks up the volume Snufkin had been reading and chuckles at the memory of this specific one. He looks at the child with a sort of warmth in his eye and pats the ground next to him and asks him. “Did you like them? The stories?”

Snufkin’s shock and distrustful edge fades away as he nods and crawls back to Moominpapa as the rain continues outside. “I do. They’re very exiting.” 

Snufkin’s words are always short and blunt, but Moominpapa expects that this just might be from a lack of practice. He slides the book back in front of Snufkin who starts to read from the book again, however. This time he reads aloud so Moominpapa can also experience these wonderful stories. 

“And so with the beast de...feated… we sailed off into the brilliant night sky…” This continues for a while, until Snufkin finishes the story, and looks up at Moominpapa for some sort of approval. 

Moominpapa claps and cheers for him. “My my! You’re so young, yet you’re so good with words!” Snufkin flushes at this and pulls his hat down below his eyes, but there's a smile hidden in the shadow of his hat, and they both know this. Moominpapa laughs and sets a bookmark into the book and turns to a specific page. He gently touches Snufkin’s shoulder to gain his attention before continuing. 

“Do you wanna know where that story comes from, boy?”

Snufkin nods with stars in big, brown eyes. “If you wouldn’t mind!”

“Of course I don’t mind, Snufkin!” Moominpapa turns around the book and shows him the very first page where he had so long ago written in his own name. “Its my story!” 

Snufkin gasps and runs his fingers along the name. 

Moominpapa continues, giving the book back to Snufkin who studies the name even closer. 

“Why, its from an adventure I had, an incredibly long time ago, before I even met Moominmama!”

Snufkin gasps and the book slides off his lap as he hands beat against his chest as he unconsciously flaps them in excitement. “Really? Really and truly? You’ve adventured too?”

Moominpapa laughs in an incredibly showy way. He throws his head back, thrusts his chest forward and places his hands on his hips as he does. “Why of course, my child! I’ve been all over the world!” 

Snufkin squeals in excitement and Moominpapa feels the warmth in his chest explode and spread among his entire being and wishes from the bottom of his heart that Snufkin was the type to enjoy physical contact, because he wants nothing more than to wrap the laughing, flapping, rocking child into his arms and nuzzle him until his snout falls off. 

However, Snufkin wouldn't like that very much and Moominpapa would hate to destroy the fragile trust that he had placed in him. So instead he simply reaches behind him and grabs a parcel, wrapped up all nice and neat. He waits for Snufkin to calm and notice him again before presenting the parcel to the boy with a bit of a mischievous glint in his eye. “You must see some pretty exciting things on your adventures too, Snufkin…Why don’t you try writing some of yours down too?”

Snufkin balks at the suggestion, or maybe it was just at the gift. His face turns white and he starts to shake, more than a little overwhelmed. Moominpapa frowns. He hadn’t meant to upset him, he just wanted to give him a present. 

Moominpapa’s eyes widen. Perhaps… he’d never even received a present before… “Oh dear…” he says quietly, setting the parcel aside. “Snufkin…? Hasn’t anybody ever given you a gift before…?”

Snufkin bites on his fingers, a nasty habit really, and he shakes his head. “No...Never… I’ve never  _ deserved  _ a gift before...” 

Moominpapa tries to ignore his breaking heart. He knows that if he lets the child see how upset that statement made him, he’d never express his emotions around him again. So instead, he continues. 

“Well….I think you do.” Moominpapa says with a gentle smile. He picks the parcel from where he left it and presents it once again to a wide-eyed Snufkin. “And if you’d like… this can be your very first. Its a journal, just for you to write or draw whatever you’d like to, anytime you’d like to.” Moominpapa smiles as Snufkin reaches out to take it. 

“Doesn’t that sound nice?”

“It does….”

 

* * *

_ As Snufkin unwraps his gift, a horrible thought comes to Moominpapa’s mind.  _

* * *

_ “Well you know, blood is much thicker than water.”  _ Snaps the nasty caretaker from the depth of Moominpapa’s memories and he frowns deeply over his pancakes, muttering “Well, syrup is even thicker…” before shoving almost an entire stack down his throat. 

Moominmama scolds him for his manners but then asks him what he was on about. Moominpapa hums in slight annoyance before setting down his fork and thinks with a slight uncertainty. As even years after, he never liked to speak about what  _ really  _ happened at that orphanage. But with Moomin still asleep and Snufkin out fishing he sees no true reason to keep his thoughts to himself. 

“When I was younger…” He starts. “The Matron at that awful orphanage would scare us into behaving, by saying that ‘blood was thicker than water.’  and if we didn't behave, the person who adopted us would simply give us back. After all… It wasn’t like we were even  _ real  _ family…”

Moominmama gasps in horror and Moominpapa shoots her a small smile to attempt to comfort her. 

He picks up his coffee and takes a long sip before continuing. “And I can’t help but thinking…. Snufkin had been told exactly the same.”

Moominmama slides down against her chair, silent for a moment before saying. “I think so as well….”

They share an uncomfortable silence, neither of them touching any more of their breakfast as they watched the late autumn leaves fall. Eventually, though. Moominmama speaks with a gentle sort of thoughtfulness that suited her well. “Even...Even if we aren’t his  _ real  _ family. It doesn’t mean we love him any less....” 

She pauses and Moominpapa knows by the crinkle of her brow that she was about to say something that would really blow him away. “In fact… Mother once told me that that saying had been messed up in quite a bad way.”

Moominpapa cocks his head in a bit of curiosity. “What do you mean, Mamma?”

“Well..” she continues. “The original phrase was that ‘The blood of the covenant….Is thicker than water of the womb. Meaning…”

“You…  _ choose  _ your family.” Moominpapa finished. His eyes wide as if his entire world had been flipped upside down. (and to be fair, it kinda had been.)

Moominmama nods. “Yes… and I think… We should  _ choose  _ to make Snufkin a part of this family.”

Moominpapa laughs. “You mean, like we haven’t already?”

Moominmama laughs as well. “Oh my! You’re completely right!”  
  


* * *

Part Five

Come Winter, Come Spring. 

* * *

Late in November, only a few days before the Moomins were set to hibernate. Moomin goes and runs to where his dear friend  _ Snufkin _ had set his camp, but is left disappointed as he found that Snufkin wasn’t there.

At first, Moomin thought that Snufkin might’ve relocated as he usually did once he stayed in a place for far too long, but after a quick search of the surrounding forest and valley, Moomin was left even more confused and more than a little agitated, wondering where in the valley his friend had ran off too. Winter was coming soon, and he’d have to hibernate!

In fact, that's exactly  _ why  _ Moomin was looking for his dear friend, Snufkin. He had wanted to invite the boy to hibernate with them!!

Moomin sniffed and held back his tears. He turned away from Snufkin’s empty campground, but his mood brightens slightly as he sees a piece of parchment sticking out of the mailbox! He gasped with excitement before running and grabbing the letter right out of the box, and as he thought...It was from Snufkin!

However, as he read the letter Moomin found his entire world crashing down around him.

> _ Moomin,  _
> 
> _ I don’t know how to start a note like this but I hope you won’t hate me for what it says. I left the valley. I’ve been meaning to leave for weeks and months, but I was having so much fun with you and everyone else that I pushed it off entirely.  _
> 
> _ I’ve learned so many things while in this valley and i’ve found myself happier than i’ve been in a very long time. Thank you for that… But I have to go now. Maybe i’ll be back, but I don’t know if i will be.  _
> 
> _ You have to hibernate soon, but I don’t. And it's gotten much too cold for me to be alright in my little tent. I hope this isn’t goodbye, forever. But for now, this is goodbye.  _
> 
> _  
>  -Snufkin. _
> 
> _  
>  P.S. Thank you for everything. I really appreciated it all. _
> 
> _ P.P.S. I’m sorry. I was too scared to say goodbye to your face… _
> 
> _ P.P.P.S. I stole a thing of Blackberry Jam. I’m sorry. I’ll bring you something to make up for it when I return. _

Moomin cries and takes the letter to his parents who have to turn away to hide their despair so Moomin won’t cry even harder than he is now. 

They all think the same thing. 

Snufkin is alone. All by himself on the cusp of winter and they cannot do a single thing to help him, and the worrying they do that night is enough to send them to an early hibernation.

 

* * *

_ Every single one of them has a nightmare of Snufkin disappearing forever... _

* * *

Deep into the winter, and on the cusp of spring Moominmama awakes with a start. She looks at Moominpapa beside her and then at the clock they keep on their side table. There's only a few days left till spring, and Moominmama decides she can no longer take her hibernation and shoves herself out of bed to find something to settle her nerves. 

Or, at least… She finds somewhere to cry without alerting anyone else in the house. 

The days pass as she makes their house habitable again. She starts the lights and water and turns on the gas for their stove. She bakes bread and cake and starts preparing this years vegetable patch. She dusts the furniture she forgot to cover and mops the floors and windows till she can see her reflection clear as day.

She does anything to keep the worry from her mind, really...

Then, Moominpapa wakes up and immediately locks himself into his study and she knows he’s also had a terrible hibernation. 

Last of all, Moomin. Her precious, darling Moomintroll wakes up but doesn’t leave his room for three more days, and every time she checks on him she catches him reading Snufkin’s goodbye over and over and over again.

It absolutely breaks her heart. 

However, as the weeks pass they finds themselves falling somewhat back into normalcy. Moominmamma works in the house, Moominpapa works on his memoirs, and Moomin… well, he’s been trying his best to work on anything at all. 

Then, Sometime in mid-spring as they’re eating their lunch outside on the patio, the birds of the valley all start singing a song none of them have ever heard before. They find it odd and pause to listen, but then floating through the air comes the same tune. Not sang by any bird, but by a-

“Snufkin!!” Moomin shouts and practically throws himself over the porch railing to rush to the figure standing on the bridge, playing what would become the first of many spring tunes. 

 

**_End_ **

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading this, I sold my soul for the other fic but I stole it back when the fic gods weren't looking so I could write this piece of fluff to accompany it. 
> 
> Mind leaving a review to make my efforts worthwile?


End file.
